Intrigue With A Dash Of Envy
by Rianne
Summary: A GSR moment from Catherine's perspective...


**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, never going to be mine.

**Author Notes:** This is the first time I have attempted a GSR piece completely in Catherine's POV, but I loved playing with her character in my WIP Stars in Motion, so here goes nothing!!

**Intrigue With A Dash Of Envy.**

By Rianne.

_Catherine._

She couldn't take her eyes off them.

The one constant in the overcrowded lab as staff swirled about in rapid changeable motion.

Blurring haste, fluid and chemical, fabric, human, intelligence and concentration.

Yet in the epicentre of that whirl they stood.

The outer disturbance not impacting on them.

Not even lifting a hair, or stirring a fabric fold.

There had always been something there.

Something between the lonely awkward entomologist and the tall mysterious younger woman.

Anyone could see that.

But after all the push and pull.

All the too and fro.

All her offers and his indecision.

All the fighting and giving of the cold shoulder and emotional pain.

And yet they were together!

Were actually together!

For how long?

How intricately?

How deeply?

Did they love?

Catherine's curiosity had been piqued and she couldn't shake it.

Couldn't resist the urge to know.

And she knew full well that curiosity killed her nickname sake.

But she couldn't help it.

She could hardly be blamed for her curiosity. It was far too tempting.

Intrigue drove her, and these two had become her latest conundrum.

It was better than any soap opera she never had time to tune in for.

In the last six weeks she hadn't been able to stop observing them.

Attracted like now to the outer simplicity of their interactions and the myriad of secrets their emotional minimalism belied.

Their calm aura at the centre of a Lab storm.

Her wondering attempting to peel back the delicately interwoven layers of meaning beneath their connection.

For two so complex souls just had to feel so much more than they expressed.

So she was looking for all the little tells, all the little clues she had missed.

And yes, it infuriated her to admit that now she examined, she saw she had missed many.

Sara had always been flirty eyes and crushing blush and liked taunting him to get a rise.

But Gil was a much murkier man to read.

Yet, look closely enough, and know what to look out for and there were differences between the way he treated them and the way he treated Sara.

Like all the little ways he favoured her, from the gentler touch, to the almost boyish tilt to his brow when he observed her and the brighter sparkle in his eyes as he sparred with her.

But right now there was nothing but concern in those baby blues of his.

The frown of worry creasing his forehead, in perfect counterbalance to the frown of frustration in hers.

A silent battle of wills.

Something was brewing.

Sara had only been back at work two weeks.

And as a manager herself she had wondered at the reasoning in letting her come back so soon.

Sure she was probably driving Gil crazy at home.

Home, the thought of them sharing a home was odd.

But it was early.

After all it had only been six weeks.

Six weeks since the parade of tiny taunting miniatures addressed to Dr. G. Grissom had culminated in one that had stabbed far too close to home.

A tiny car.

A tiny red car with an equally tiny version of Sara Sidle prostrate beneath it.

Pinned, squirming and terrified for her life.

And the realisation in that moment.

The paralysing fear as each one of them had rearranged the clues into perfect focus.

Sara.

Natalie Davis had Sara.

And in that split second the world around them had rearranged.

Everything had changed.

And what had just been another curious serial murder had morphed on a knife-edge, reforming with sharper clarity into a very personal attack.

Only six weeks had passed, but she felt like they had all endured a lifetime of desperate searching.

The trauma of the desert scouring and hope draining, one-sided, suspect interviews and the time after spent in emotion-blurred visits to see Sara in the hospital. All of it feeling now like more of a surreal dream than a lived through drama.

She barely recalled the hours passing, it was all a blur in her memory now, a single combined ball of sensations. All hazed over with vibrant yellow sand and the pang of thirst, and the burning ache of tired muscles and tired mind. Dry wind baking her skin, blasting her hair about her face, where it wasn't stuck to her neck in the cold chill of dread.

They had to find her.

So she had continued to hold her head high, her neck sore, her limbs tired, her eyes desperately scanning the dead desolate desert, longing for any sign.

And then they had found it.

Little cairns, little signs that Sara had left, little stones of hope, piled up for them to find.

And their footsteps had sped up, feet pounding on the shifting sands, an excruciating pace that made you want to claw at the ground before you to make the time pass faster, make more ground fall away behind you.

They had followed process and procedure with precision and dedication.

Fear and sweat powering them forwards.

Having nothing more reliable to concentrate their minds than to work diligently in the only manner they knew.

Trusting in themselves.

Never allowing themselves to give up hope.

And they hadn't.

And they had found her.

Just in time.

Sara had miraculously survived.

And thank goodness, for they had all known that if she hadn't, Grissom would not have.

She had never seen him like that, ever.

Stumbling blind and wild.

Never seen him so unfocussed.

And that was when she first really knew just how much Sara Sidle meant to him.

The look on his face, the way his knees had wobbled, the way he had staggered looking as if he might pass out with relief at the battered sight of her.

The way he had not even cared that tears escaped his eyes, rubbing away his relief for all to see.

She had looked to the skies and thanked whoever was listening, for delivering Sara to safety, repented everything wrong that she had ever done.

And found her repentances answered by the heavy whirr of rotary blades.

And then in a storm of dust Sara had been whisked away with Gil by her side, the helicopters whirring blades slicing through the air as it rushed her to the help she do desperately needed.

And she had come through with broken bones and scrapes and nightmares, but with that big goofy grin still emerging when the moment called for it.

No doubt the bravest woman of her acquaintance.

And so now life was moving on.

Indelibly changed.

Intricately contorted.

With new and intriguing secrets revealed.

For it was also only six weeks since her oldest friend in the world had breathlessly announced in one barely conscious sentence of realisation that Natalie Davis had in retaliation taken from him the only person he had ever loved.

It had taken a minute to register, but those words had echoed:_ "I took away the only person she ever loved, so she's going to do the same thing to me."_

Gobsmacked had been an understatement.

But now as she watched them she could not believe that she had not realised sooner.

These two complicated people before her… they had been so tumultuous for as long as she could remember, quite possibly for as long as she had known Sara, and so maybe she could be forgiven for not noticing such a subtle shift between them, when everyone had decided that they would never make it work between them.

She had for some time thought her friends a lost cause.

And been proved wrong.

They had been very careful about it since Sara's return to work.

Especially as it was out there now.

Nothing could stay quiet in this place for long.

Sara had been reassigned to Swing as per protocol and per Ecklie.

Yet the usually feisty brunette had somehow kept her head high, and her responses bitten down, and her ears above the twittering Lab techs and their whispers about her and about Grissom and their insinuations, which followed her as she walked the halls.

It was a testament to Sara's bravery; that she had never seen her look stronger.

Even with her broken wing cradled close to her body and the sticky stitches railroading across her bruised cheek.

She continued to rise above.

In a curious way looking far more content and secure.

And she could only hope that it wasn't bravado.

Could only hope that Gil was the one making sure she was careful and well and safe.

Six weeks.

Hundreds of dollars claimed and lost on bets they never thought would come to fruition.

And yet right in front of her there was suddenly a hint of unrest in paradise.

They were still locked in their silent argument, unaware of her approach.

Oh, it certainly looked like he was in trouble this time.

She eyed the lithe brunette warily.

Noting the tense shoulders, the contorted forehead, the way she held her uninjured hand by her side with long fingers flexing.

She knew exactly what it felt like to be under the scrutiny of that very same Sara Sidle scowl.

Poor Gil.

For a moment her brain considered what he could possibly have done this time.

But what intrigued her more was the quiet intensity of this little scene.

It was clearly a private argument.

And to their credit a discrete one.

Nothing at all like the violent, explosive, throwing the furniture kind of conflicts she had once shared with Eddie.

No, it looked like she was the only person in the hall aware of the intense eyes, the unspoken words of frustration and hurt bouncing back and forth between the pair.

She felt like she could have literally sliced the air with her pocketknife.

But it was too late to turn back now and give the into the odd wave of feeling that she should give them some privacy, even though they had chosen to hold their silent battle of wills in the Lab's glass walled hallway.

She was already upon them and in that very same moment her arrival snapped them out of their motionless war.

Sara huffed out a huge sigh of frustration and before she had been able to open her mouth to speak the other woman had turned on her heel and stalked away in gigantic strides.

Hair swishing behind her, shoulders hunched in that way that she had of trying to make herself seem shorter.

"What was that about?"

The words were out before she had the moment to challenge herself or consider the intrusion of them.

His eyelids fluttered, but his sad gaze was still trailing the woman who had just stalked away.

"Well… go after her!" She couldn't keep the exasperation from bubbling forth.

And he had, which had made her smile.

She couldn't help it.

He looked so cute as he bumbled off after Sara, looking every inch the uncomfortable, anxious, socially inept scientist she had always known, bowed legs moving as fast as he could.

And she was oddly proud of him.

He had finally pulled his head out of the microscope.

And again she had to wonder how long they had been together.

They had the comfort level of a long-term couple.

Bickering, speaking without words, damn they behaved like an old married couple.

Yet she could not pinpoint a moment in time when things seemed to have changed between them. There had been as many arguments and as many times of camaraderie as before, they had essentially behaved just as always.

Surely if they had finally got together after such a long time there had to be some unbelievable fireworks. The repressed affection and sexuality must have been explosive.

A consummation heard round the world. She smirked at her own humour.

Not that she wanted to think about her friends like that.

Actually she couldn't really imagine them being like that together, not without picturing slightly geeky displays, little bursts of affection erupting out of awkward fumbles.

With a headshake she tossed those thoughts from her brain and turned back to her office, her sight of him lost.

And as she collected her coat, and bag, she wondered again about her own current lack of romance, there was a distinct lack of someone to go home too, these days Lindsay had a more active social life than she did, and so she had found herself longing. Longing for someone adult to share in the satisfaction of another day over.

She rolled her head on her shoulders, yeah, and someone she didn't have to pay to release the creaks in her neck…

Hell if two loners like Gil and Sara could find love, someone as outgoing as she should have no problems. Yet, tell that to her life.

Car keys in hand she headed towards the covered parking lot.

Hearing her heels click against the cement flooring and echo.

Sliding into the drivers seat she sighed, closed the door and took a moment to absorb the blissfully cool silence, before she lowered her handbag and keys to the passenger seat.

At that split second she couldn't be sure which was worse, the battleground of home and Lindsay and her drama's or work and Ecklie and his serve thyself before others politics.

She wished she could be free of it.

A nice tropical vacation would see her right. One where she could lounge bikini clad by the waters edge and be served drinks by handsome young suntan oiled cabana boys.

But at the moment that certainly wasn't very likely.

Shaking off the self-pity she reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror.

And a movement passing through its window caught her attention.

Sara.

And then another, a streak of grey and blue.

Gil.

She knew she shouldn't spy on them, that eventually if she kept this up she'd get caught and there would be embarrassment all round, but she still found herself instinctively curling lower in her seat to make sure she couldn't be seen and stamping down her easily dissuaded conscience, she watched them.

She'd only watch a moment.

But that promise was quickly broken too.

Besides, considering the distracted mindset they were both in right now if she reversed she might end up running one or both of them over.

And there had been enough trips to Desert Palms lately, so many they probably owned shares in their cafeteria and coffee stations.

So that was her excuse, her rationalisation, her way to pretend to relinquish her guilt.

As in that little rear-view pane she watched Gil approach Sara.

Sara had her back to him, but she had to see his reflection in her car window. Yet, she did not turn.

Her slight frame was still stiff with tension and her uninjured palm clenched so tight she trembled with it.

And still as he reached her, he stepped in close behind, into her very personal space, and reached out, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders with the lightest weight imaginable.

Well, that was one observation confirmed, he did touch Sara with the utmost reverence.

And before her very eyes she saw Sara's shoulders droop, the tension evaporating instantly as he leaned close to whisper something in her ear, his lips brushing breeze into her hair and whatever he said worked wonders.

He gave her another moment, and then he coaxed her to face him and by now she turned easily in his arms.

He was so tender with her, so gentle.

Soothing her.

Stroking her hair, stroking her cheek, as he continued to whisper to her, the backs of his fingers tracing over her lips and her eyelids fluttered too, as Sara's did.

Utterly charming.

Such simple gestures, such sweetness in his touch. The quiet power of his emotions pouring over her.

He cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to his.

And the way he looked at her had caused Sara's breathing to slow.

And then everything slowed as his lips sank to hers.

Just watching the first brush of their lips brought her goosebumps.

A slow barely there coaxing, the teasing stroke of sensitive lip against sensitive lip, their eyelids lulling closed under the spell of sensations.

And then they seemed to fall into one another as if only the car against Sara's back kept them standing.

His palms sliding up and into her hair, cradling her head, her uninjured hand moving in slow, distracted motion, up the slope of his back, drawing him closer as the kiss grew heated.

Now, now she should look away, but she found she couldn't.

The intrigue she felt in watching this achingly intimate display was overpowering her rational thought.

All of them had been so speculative about their relationship, she wasn't alone in that, but this was nothing like she had expected, these weren't the awkward fumbles of first time teens.

This was love, respect, mutual admiration and desire.

This was intimacy and trust and a private communion.

This was something she could only dream about finding with another person.

She wasn't surprised to feel the smile on her face, she was happy for them, really happy for them; they were lucky, damn lucky.

She felt the air collect in her cheeks, and puffed it out with force, surprised to feel their kisses warming her own cheeks as their explorations intensified and continued to intensify… and continued…wow…

Melting into something much deeper, Sara's hips slowly beginning to rock up against him despite her being pinned to the car, their inhibitions weakening, their embrace rapidly descending into something far too intimate and arousing to be watched.

Damn Grissom! Who knew he had it in him!

Okay, now she really needed to stop watching, this was a serious invasion of their privacy, even if they were in public, but as if she had heard her thoughts Sara was suddenly pulling away.

Breaking their kiss with reluctance, and panting for breath as she pushed against his chest, slipping out of his arms as if to give herself space to think again, clearly having remembered where they were and that they could get caught at any moment.

It took him longer to regain his balance, and what looked like a huge intake of steadying breath, before he used the car to right himself, but even then he was unable to hide the smile spread across his face.

They were both, rather belatedly, looking around them to check they hadn't been rumbled.

And even in the shelter of her car she still instinctively held her breath, cringing in on herself, her lip between her teeth as she prayed they wouldn't see her always so obvious blonde hair peeking out over the top of the seat, but thankfully her hiding place was good and they didn't see her.

But she could still see them.

And watched them realise that they were in the clear, smiling herself at the way that they shared a relieved look, shyly beaming at each other.

She had never seen them look so happy, what with their twin expressions, all flustered, flushed and giddy.

And to their credit only mildly guilty.

Sara still looked a little glazed, and definitely blissed out. Her reactions were slow and the renewed smile that curved her lips was warm and lazy. She looked a million miles, or should that be a million kiss endorphins, from where she had been in the Lab hall before.

They were so good for one another.

She watched him lightly stroke Sara's hair again, smoothing the mussed strands, before dropping a final calming kiss to her lips.

Then drawing back and just gazing down at her for a moment. As if silently thanking her for coming back to him.

But he wasn't bringing their encounter to a close, instead on some clear, but unspoken agreement, they both climbed into Sara's car and with some careful reversing they drove away together.

And as she watched them drive away she could only shake her head still mildly awed.

It was a shame she had too much seniority these days to join in with lab gossip, the guys would literally beg for juicy morsels like this!

She grinned wickedly, but then rolled her eyes at herself, knowing that she'd never tell anyway. God, when had she become so sentimental!

She let the taillights of Sara's car disappear completely into the traffic before she remembered that she had been heading home too.

She smiled, shaking her head in an effort of clear out all the voyeur induced cobwebs.

And as she finally started the engine the red digital clock on her dash caught her attention.

She couldn't help but laugh as she wound her way out of the parking lot and out into traffic.

She had only just twigged, she had been working over time, Sara now worked swing and yet they had both left together and that meant only one thing…

Grissom was playing hookie!! Gil Grissom!

Well, damn!

Things really were changing.


End file.
